“Passport,” the guy said.
He didn’t look friendly, but then again, with the lines, he probably was as frustrated as we were.
“Business or pleasure?” he asked.
I glanced at my uniform and said, “Business.”
Next thing I knew he pulled out something that looked vaguely like a gun and aimed it at my forehead.
“Taking your temperature,” he said.
“What is this about?” I asked.
“Have you been in contact with anyone…” He listed off several symptoms.
“Before I traveled, my grandmother was in the hospital with pneumonia.”
He flagged down another agent as my heart raced. I had no idea what was about to happen.
“Have you been in close contact with anyone since your hospital visit?”
I wanted to say, duh, but that would have been rude and a snarky response out of fear.
“I’m a flight attendant.”
“Outside of that.”
I thought about my time with Grant.
“Intimately?” he asked when I didn’t respond quickly enough.
Heat flooded my cheeks as I nodded, unable to lie.
“Who?” he asked.
Instead of saying Grant’s name, I lifted my finger and pointed. Grant wasn’t in the global entry line, but I’d felt his stare and had known where he was.
The agent that had come to assist moved into the crowd and waved Grant through.
“Follow me,” he said and we moved beyond a closed door into another room.
I couldn’t look at Grant, though he was right there next to me. The guy asked us a series of questions regarding any symptoms we might have experienced or anyone we might have been in contact with. When we answered negative on all accounts, he took our temperature once again.
It felt surreal, like we were caught in some kind of movie.
“Here is the deal,” the guy said. “I’m going to level with you. Though we can’t force you, we strongly suggest you self-quarantine for fourteen days.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Based on your answers, you might have been exposed to the virus.”
“How?” I questioned.
“Your grandmother.”
“But she had pneumonia.”
“That’s one of the results of the virus. We don’t know if she had it, but it’s best to err on the side of caution. Do you have somewhere you can go?”
Even if Gran didn’t have it, I’d been on a flight with hundreds of people. I’d stayed in a hotel and been through two busy airports. I couldn’t risk bringing the virus to her or my mother if I’d been exposed. Staying with my father was also not an option.
“I don’t want to be alone,” I said, not realizing I’d spoken the thought.
A familiar hand covered mine. “You can stay with me at my cabin.”
I lifted my head and found Grant’s eyes on me as he gave my hand a little squeeze. I thought about how horrible I’d been to him. Yet, there he was again, rescuing me. I couldn’t stop the relief I felt as the agent gave us further instructions and had us fill out paperwork.Twenty-FourGrantJolene’s shell-shocked appearance was the reason I gave myself for reaching out and taking her hand as I drove toward Maryland.
When she didn’t protest, I took it for a good sign, especially since my hand was still chilled from removing the snow that had accumulated while my truck had been parked in the lot.
“It’ll be okay,” I offered.
Her stare was blank when she said, “I hope so.”
But hope appeared to be wiped clean from her thoughts.
“Are you hungry?”
She turned in my direction, but I had to keep my eyes on the road.
“They said we couldn’t be around people.”
“I’m pretty sure a drive-thru doesn’t count,” I said, chuckling.
When she didn’t laugh, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.
“What about your dad?” she asked.
“I texted him. He’s going to stock up the cabin with food so we won’t have to go out.”
“Where will he stay?” she asked.
“He has a house in town. He’ll be close to people and shops.”
“What about the airpark?”
“I don’t think people are flying right now. But he’ll figure it out.”
“Will you?” she asked.
“Will I what?”
“Fly?”
I shook my head. “It’s you and me for the next two weeks.” She didn’t say anything, and I did my best to lighten the mood. “You know we can pass the time by playing charades and poker,” I joked.
Somehow, I managed to keep a straight face.
“Poker?” she asked.
“You know, strip poker.”
I gave her the biggest smile until she finally gave in and laughed.
“Never going to happen,” she tried and failed to say without a huge grin.
“Never say never, Highness.”
Things changed when she got a call. Her muted conversation had put the frown back on her face.
When it ended, I asked, “Is everything okay?”
Her shrug wasn’t reassuring. “Gran is out of the hospital. They don’t know if she had the virus or not. Pneumonia did a number on her lungs and she’s developed a complication that requires her on oxygen. That means she can’t talk much without losing her breath. Then, because her immune system is compromised, she can’t have visitors. Not even my dad. I just feel helpless.”